


Faults of Youth and Silence

by Nlexe



Series: Things Fall Apart. Things Fall Together [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ambiguous/Open Ending, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 18:31:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16979643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nlexe/pseuds/Nlexe
Summary: “Hey, Silje, is there something you wanted to ask me about? Or talk to me about?"Things are changing and Silje looks for answers in subtlety.





	Faults of Youth and Silence

     She yanked the handle, making sure the car was locked. She leaned against the door and fished out her phone.

     10:56 a.m. Huffing, she put it back into her coat pocket. Early, again. Always early. Her eyes scanned the parking lot. The strip hadn’t changed much; a new taekwondo studio opened in the vacant storefront, and the hardware store changed its window display, but that was it.

     She checked her phone again. 11:01 a.m. She fiddled with her phone, opening and closing apps until another minute passed. Only once it had did she type out a message. Before she could even pocket the phone again a car pulled up right in front of her. Marianne waved through the window, phone in hand. She parked and stepped out in a rush, throwing the door shut.

     “Hey,” Marianne said, smiling and going for a hug.

     “Hey,” she said. The smell of raspberries wafted through the air. “You took a shower? Y’curls are still wet.”

     “Yeah,” Marianne pulled back, running one hand through her hair. “Sorry for bein’ late. Alfred wouldn’t let me in the bathroom.”

     “Since when did he care about looking presentable?”

     “Since he started dating that...  _harlot_."

     "Okay first of all, you need to lay off those 99 cent-romance novels. Secondly, Natalya isn't a harlot."

     "Well, whatever," Marianne huffed, flipping her hair out of her face. "But anyway, sorry for being' late. Blame Alfred, and by proxy, Natalya.”

     “Y'know, one day you're gonna have to let him go.”

     "Who's to say I haven't already?" Marianne smiled. She ignored the eye roll in response and hiked her purse higher up on her arm. “C’mon, let’s go and get something to eat.”

—

     The inside of the coffee shop was warm, dry, and playing Christmas music but the two girls sat outside. They sat down with their drinks and food.

     "You know, I was a bit surprised when you texted me," Marianne said, placing her bag on the ground. "Not a bad surprise, though."

     "Oh," Silje said, eyes wide as she kept her gaze on the table. Her cheeks were a dusty pink. Marianne chuckled, reaching across the table to place her hand on Silje's.

     "Again, not bad. I missed you. You've been kinda... flighty lately."

     Silje's nose scrunched up. "I have not."

     "Oh come off it, you have. And that's okay. I just missed ya a bit. Alice is always telling me how my appetite for human contact is insatiable, but she's no better. Just more silent about it," Marianne said, laughing good-naturedly. She smiled as Silje visibly relaxed at that, but her smile went away when noticed Silje sitting still. "Hey, aren't y'gonna eat anything?"

     “No. Haven’t been feelin’ all that well.”

     “Mhm,” Marianne resumed unwrapping her sandwich. “You do look skinnier.”

     “No, I don’t.”

     “Yeah, Silje, you kinda do,” she said.

     “No, I really don’t. But that’s nice, if I have. Or, if I look like I have. Wish I did but I really haven’t.”

     Marianne didn’t reply. Instead, she leaned down and grabbed her purse off the ground. She took out a lighter and placed it on the table. After another minute of rifling through it she groaned, throwing the bag back onto the ground. She moved to grab the lighter and chuck it back into her purse when Silje stopped her.

     “Here.”

     Marianne paused, looking up to see Slije holding out a carton of cigarettes. She took them and watched as Silje stayed hunched over the table, taking a sip of her hot chocolate.

     “This is a new pack,” Marianne slowly said.

     “Yeah,” Silje hunched forward, using her drink to warm her hands. “’s okay.”

     Marianne sighed, nodding, and ripped off the plastic.

     “You quitting or something?”

     “No? No, I guess.”

     “You should.”

     “Why?” Silje barked out, hugging herself.

     “It’s not good for you.”

     “I could say the same for you!”

     “True, sorry,” Marianne smiled a little. She handed the carton back to Silje, watching her carefully put them back in her own bag.

     “Sorry they’re not Reds. Think I told ya how I got into Spirits back in the summer.”

     “It’s okay,” Marianne said, reclining in her seat. “Heard these are supposed to be better for you, anyhow.”

     Silje shrugged, nose slipping into her scarf. “They’re cigarettes.”

     Marianne snorted, reaching for her sandwich. “That’s true."

     Silje looked at Marianne's hand on the table, the cigarette held lax between its fingers. She put her hands on the table, wrapping them around her own drink.

     “Hey, are you cold?”

     “Somethin’ like that.”

     “Somethin’ like that,” Marianne parroted, her eyebrow raised.

     “I mean, yeah. A little.”

     “You never get cold.”

     “Things change.”

     Marianne frowned a bit at that. She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off.

     “They’re still cigarettes, Spirits. Still the same. Lungs’ll still take a beating,” Silje said.

     Marianne nodded again, looking Silje over but deciding to not push. “That’s true. Hey, speakin’ of beating, did y’hear about Mikkel?”

     “No, what’d he do now?”

     “He’s gotten kicked out.”

     “Of what? School? His house?” Silje’s voice was muffled by her scarf, but she didn’t pull it away from her face.

     Marianne shrugged, taking a drag. “Both, I guess. It was ugly. He got into another fight. Wasn’t at school, actually, but guess it was enough.”

     Silje wrapped her arms around her stomach. She looked out into the parking lot. There was a small group of teenagers standing under the sign that listed all the shops in the strip. One boy wearing a beanie shoved another, making the other fall into a pile of snow. Both of them laughed. Another boy stood off slightly to the side, watching his two friends. He snatched the beanie off the boy’s head, sticking his tongue out when he tried to get it back.

     “Guess his mom’s had it, huh,” Silje said.

     “Yeah, I mean, I would, too.”

     “You would?” Silje tore her gaze away from the boys to look at Marianne.

     “I mean, I guess. You wouldn’t?”

     Silje shrugged. “I don’t know.”

     “He’s the town fuck-up.”

     “He's not that bad," Silje said, rolling her eyes.

     "I didn't mean it like that. I know he's really a good kid. Just—he's just a bit troubled," Marianne said, looking down at her cigarette.

     “Do you... d'you think he'll be okay?"

     Marianne looked Silje in the eye, her smile small and sad. "I hope so. He really is a good guy. I hope so."

     Silje nodded sharply, digging her face further into her scarf. Marianne finished off her sandwich and threw the cigarette butt on the ground.

     “Apparently,” Marianne began, “When it happened, and he was brought home an’ everything, his mom didn’t even let him inside. Just threw him out. Right then and there. In front of everybody, the whole street. It didn’t feel real. Like, we all knew it was gonna come one day, right? But it was still—it didn’t feel right at all. I don’t know.”

     Silje frowned, raising her face out from under her scarf. “‘Cause it’s not. He might’ve fucked up, yeah, but he didn’t deserve that. He didn’t fuck up that badly.”

     “She was so mad, but… yeah. He didn’t. He didn’t deserve all that. Least not in front of everyone.”

     Silje was looking at the group of boys again. The boy who’d gotten his beanie stolen had grabbed it back, but not before throwing snow in the face of his friend who had taken it in the first place. The friend laughed and reached down to collect some snow to throw himself.

     She unwrapped her arms from around herself to take another sip. The drink was cold now.

     “That kid kinda looks like him,” Marianne said, pointing to the boy with the beanie. “Like, he actually looks like Mikkel, a bit.”

     “Yeah, he does.”

     They watched the boys throw snow and slush at each other. The wind let their laughter travel through the air and Marianne shifted her gaze away from them. Silje’s hands were clasped around her drink. Her nail polish was badly chipped and her hands red from the cold. Marianne frowned, taking another sip of her own drink. She looked back towards the group of boys.

     The boys were still playing around. The one with the beanie laughed as he threw a particularly large amount of snow. The boy who got hit by it cursed and the one who’d thrown it ran over to his friend apologizing. He hadn’t known he’d picked up some rocks with the snow.

     “You always had some sort of soft spot for him,” Marianne said.

     “I did not."

     “Ever since he found you in the bathroom an’ all,” Marianne continued. Silje didn’t respond. The table shook slightly. Marianne flipped her phone over. No new messages. On habit she glanced over at Silje’s phone. It was face down on the table and Silje didn’t move to answer it. She was always considerate, like that, Marianne noted. Marianne placed her phone back down, screen side up.

     “Gonna be honest; I was surprised. It’s not like I expected him to be, like, shitty ‘n’ all, but I didn’t expect him to actually help.”

     “Yeah,” Silje said. A pause. “He was… He’s not a bad kid, y’know.”

     “But I don’t know,” Marianne said, pointing her finger at Silje. “You know him more than I do.”

     “Yeah, I—I guess I do. He was real sweet then.”

     “What was he doin’ there again?”

     “Looking for a place to smoke. Since they had all the teachers keepin’ an eye on him he couldn’t leave, ya know. And literally no one goes into that bathroom, ever. So, yeah,” Silje said, shrugging at the end.

     “You still never told me what he did then. Like, not in detail.”

     Silje shrugged. “He just sat and talked with me. Didn’t really judge or anything. Didn’t think he’d, well you know, notice what I was doin’ in there—you know how boys are. But he did and even though he probably, really, didn’t care, like actually care, he just sat and… talked, y’know? Helped me clean up a bit. Gave me some mouthwash he keeps alongside his lighter and stuff. And, yeah, he just talked. It was random, funny shit but that was it, y’know? It was—that was nice of him. He was nice.”

     Marianne hummed. “I think I’m gonna miss him a bit. Even though we’ll be graduating and leavin’ soon, and so it shouldn’t really matter, I think I still will.”

     "Speak for yourself; I've still got another year in this town.”

     "That's true, that's true," Marianne laughed. "You'll be okay without me, and without Alice, though. You've still got Helka."

     Silje didn't respond. They both turned to watch the three boys once again. They were all sitting around now, spent from roughhousing. They started passing around a packet. It was too far to see exactly what it was and Silje bit the inside of her cheek. When the boys popped the contents of the packet in their mouth, chewing and blowing bubbles, she looked back at Marianne.

     They watched the boys throw snow and slush at each other. The wind let their laughter travel through the air and Silje watched them before tearing her gaze away.

     “She—Mikkel's mom, I mean—was only a little younger than us when she had him. Do y’think he’s like this because, I don’t know, because of her age?”

     Marianne shrugged. “Probably. That ties into a lot of things. But like, she also hates kids. That’s pretty obvious, considering everything.”

     “Yeah,” Silje nodded. “She’s always been a bitch. Even if she had him young, guess it woulda been different if she actually liked kids.”

     “I like to think so, yeah, but y’never really know until it happens. And, again, she was basically our age. I mean they say we’re adults but, I don’t know, we’re still like babies, I think.”

     “Babies can’t have babies.”

     “Yeah, but sometimes they do.”

     “They shouldn’t,” Silje said, staring at the cup between her hands. “They shouldn’t.”

     “No, they shouldn’t. But even so, it's the effort that matters. She was young, yeah, but it was 'cause she didn't like kids that basically fucked Mikkel over; she couldn't put that shit behind her and step up. Just because it wasn't ideal doesn't mean she couldn't've done a good job."

     Marianne watched as Silje fiddled with the sticker on her cup. Her fingers were shaking. She turned to look at the group of boys again. That kid really looked like Mikkel. Same beanie, the same smirk, same everything.

     “Hey,” Marianne said. “Remember when Mikel hit the team tree with his car last year? When he was high outta his mind?”

     “Yeah, he was lucky he survived the crash, and even luckier when he survived your brother and the coach tryin’ to kill him for it.”

     “Yeah, it was the prettiest tree. Oldest, too. Helped us win all those games. It was lucky.”

     “It’d been dying for a long time, though,” Silje said. “And we were the lucky ones. We were lucky we found out it was dyin’ when we did. Who knows what coulda happened if we didn’t?”

     Marianne put her elbows on the table and leaned on them. “Yeah, it’d been telling us that for awhile. Guess we just couldn’t tell.”

     Silje hummed. “Most things happen that way.”

     “Yeah,” Marianne said, leaning forward. “Hey, Silje, is there something you wanted to ask me about? Or talk to me about?"

     Silje looked away, breathing in sharply. After a moment she sighed, slightly shrugging.

     "I know you know I'm here for you," Marianne said. Her tone gentle but coaxing.

     "I know."

     Silence settled between the two for a few moments. Marianne bit her lip. "I know I asked earlier and I won’t ask again after this, I won’t, but are you okay?”

     “Yeah, I’m fine.”

     “Silje,” Marianne scooted her chair closer to the table. Silje looked up. Marianne sat up straighter as she continued. “Have you been eating alright?”

     “I’ve been eating fine,” she said.

     “Okay, then lemme ask this: are you keeping it down?”

     Silje finished off her drink.

     “Silje, you can’t—”

     “It’s not me this time. It’s not, okay? I really don’t mean to.”

     “Okay, it’s okay. I believe you,” Marianne said.

     Silje nodded, staring out at the parking lot. The sun was still high, but the wind picked up. The three boys were leaving. “You know I fuck up a lot.”

     “No, you don’t—”

     “I do,” Silje said. “So don’t worry. I’ll fix it.”

     “I always do,” Marianne smiled softly, “I don’t mind.”

     “But I do.”

     “I know, but—”

     “It’ll pass,” Silje said, clutching her empty cup, watching the boys walk away. “It’ll pass.”


End file.
